


Shock and Awe

by trench



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Secretly a Virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:31:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6433696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trench/pseuds/trench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonny might be a virgin, but he's not about to tell that to Patrick. Especially not right before Patrick pops his cherry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shock and Awe

**Author's Note:**

> ~~originally posted[here](http://manadvantage.tumblr.com/post/141118697903/suspend-your-disbelief-its-secretly-a-virgin)~~
> 
> edit: I guess I posted this to the sinbin half a year ago and forgot about it, whoops. so if you wanna read the Tyler/Jamie version of this, [here](http://thesinbin.dreamwidth.org/3088.html?thread=2937616#cmt2937616) you go

Okay, Jonny’s not proud, but he’ll admit it—he’s read a lot of articles on how to find a prostate.

But no amount of how-to’s could ever have prepared him for Patrick’s reaction when he finally does.

“Fuck,” Patrick bites out, practically shoving himself down on Jonny’s fingers. “Again, _fuck_ , right there.”

“Yeah?” Jonny says, a little unsteady even as he presses in again. He wonders if Patrick can feel his heartbeat in his fingers, tucked inside Patrick’s body so neatly, like they’re supposed to be there. If Patrick knows that Jonny’s heart is pounding out of his chest. Jonny strokes his thumb over Patrick’s rim and the muscle flutters. His cock has never been this hard in his entire life.

“Wasn’t asking,” Patrick says belatedly, but it comes out plaintive instead of demanding. Ridiculously, Jonny feels himself blushing. As if he doesn’t have two fingers in his best friend’s ass, watching his dick leak against his stomach. Jonny still doesn’t really have any idea what he likes in bed—at least, what he likes in bed with other people—but he’s seen porn, he has ideas. This, though, Patrick digging his heels into Jonny’s back and getting impatient with how slow Jonny’s moving, is a whole other level. This is _it_. Patrick’s so brilliant, so gorgeous, Jonny can’t believe—“Come on, don’t leave me hanging,” Patrick says, his eye twitching shut in a way that probably shouldn’t be so attractive when Jonny crooks his fingers again.

“Yeah,” Jonny repeats lamely, wracking his mind desperately for something to distract him. At this rate, he’s going to shoot off before he even gets into Patrick, and wouldn’t that be a fucking shame. “Did you know that, uh, vitamin D is good for prostate health—”

Patrick laughs, and it’s so weird to feel that from inside. “Is that a fucking line, oh my god. Jonny.”

“No, it’s true, I was just—” Jonny doesn’t finish. Patrick fists a hand in the back of his hair and pulls him down for a kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy. Jonny licks in and tastes the beer Patrick drank earlier, leaning on Jonny’s kitchen counter, barefoot with his mouth curved into a smile behind the bottle. The memory makes Jonny’s cock jerk as much as the kiss, because his dick is traitorous like that.

Jonny doesn’t even know if Patrick kisses him to shut him up or because he genuinely wants to, but he really doesn’t mind either way. They’re about to fuck, so. It wouldn’t make sense for him to be bothered by a little kissing, no matter the motivation, right?

Jesus.

"Wanna put in another?” Patrick asks against Jonny’s mouth, hands still tightly gripping Jonny’s hair. Jonny flushes from the bluntness and the slight sting of his scalp but he nods against Patrick’s lips. He has to pull back a second later, though; he sits up on his knees and grabs the lube from where it’s been laying next to Patrick’s hip. It kills something in him to slide his fingers out but it’s just to coat three with slick before bringing them back down to where Patrick is already stretched and wet from what’s been used so far.

Patrick sits up on his elbows, glancing down his body to his splayed legs and lube-shiny thighs, and says, “Pretty sure you don’t need to get me any wetter than you already have.”

Jonny bites his lip hard. “Gonna feel better this way,” he says, voice low and already shot to hell, like he knows anything at all and didn’t just read about this in some really shameful Cosmo magazine. He eases his fingers back in and sucks in a breath at the obscene, sloppy noise when the third knuckle presses against Patrick’s hole.

It’s a really tight fit. Oh, fuck.

Jonny hasn’t managed to get his boxers off, though his sweatpants were shoved off and thrown somewhere ages ago. He wishes he didn’t have anything on, because his cock is swollen and, like. Throbbing. But if he takes it out there’s a real fear that it’s somehow going to wind up in Patrick’s ass before either of them even knows what’s happening.

He can’t take his eyes off where his fingers are disappearing, tentative and sure all at once, like an instinct, inside Patrick’s body. Every time they’ve moved a step closer to the actual fucking, Patrick has murmured something, whether it’s words of encouragement at what Jonny is sure is his obvious inexperience or broken snark for Jonny to hurry up. Now, though, he’s silent. When Jonny looks up, Patrick’s eyes are closed. His mouth is parted. Not a lot, but enough. Enough to tell that Jonny has him panting from this. His hair is matting down against the beads of sweat on his forehead, his lips bitten red. Jonny’s stomach flips and he’s probably going to faint because all the blood in his brain is now in his dick.

Fiercely, Jonny wants to be great for Patrick. No, he wants to be fantastic. He wants to make Patrick come from this. He wants to make Patrick come from _everything_.

He wonders if all sex is this intense. When he thinks about how full to bursting he gets whenever Patrick so much as smiles in his direction, he doesn’t think so. He doesn’t see how it could be, and not get draining without a constant. Everyone would be monogamous if they felt the way that Jonny does about Patrick. But Jonny’s always been a pretty avid supporter of monogamy. He’s never seen himself as the type to date around with a new whoever every few months. His mom says that’s because he’s romantic. David says that too, but in a more mocking way.

Maybe that’s why Jonny is still a virgin. Was.

“Jonny,” Patrick gasps, raspier than he has been yet. In his introspection, Jonny’s fingers have apparently given themselves permission to fuck in, rougher than they were before, when it was just prep. This is the type of fingering set on getting someone off. Jonny wonders if maybe Patrick would let Jonny make him come like this.

Patrick wraps his hand around Jonny’s wrist and tugs until Jonny pulls out. He slides his fingers in between Jonny’s, and holds his hands just like that, even though Jonny’s fingers are on their way to being pruned and slippery with the lube. “Gotta keep me up for Operation Dick Me Hard, don’t you?”

“Operation Dick Me Hard,” Jonny repeats. He misses the soft give of slick skin around his fingers.

Patrick’s mouth quirks up, sharp and filthy. “Well, you know. Pressed for time and all. I can’t really think of a good name with half your giant hand in my ass, can I?”

If Jonny didn’t know any better, he’d say there’s some nervous flicker in Patrick’s eyes, but that can’t be right. He’s projecting. Patrick doesn’t get nervous, at least not around or about Jonny.

“My hand’s not giant,“ Jonny mumbles, feeling a bit of the tension drain away. No need to be all philosophical and pondering and stressed. It’s just Patrick, even if Jonny has had a crush on him for the past two years.

“Sure it isn’t,” Patrick says diplomatically. He reaches out to grab the hem of Jonny’s boxers. “Now get these off, okay?”

When Jonny finishes struggling out of his underwear, letting his cock smack up against his stomach, he realizes he’s an idiot. There’s no such thing as ’just Patrick’. God. Looking at the splay of Patrick’s body, the freckles on the caps of his shoulders and the strength in his chest and the sweep of his pale eyelashes, Jonny wants him like a physical ache. He isn’t just in too deep. He’s already drowned.

“Hey,” Patrick says, touching Jonny’s hip, reeling him back from too many emotions. “Still good?”

“Just got—caught up,” Jonny says, momentarily distracted by the way light fills Patrick’s eyes up like water.

“Get your head in the game,” Patrick teases. Then he turns over onto his stomach, which is both disappointing and confusingly awesome. Like, now Jonny can’t see Patrick’s face, but also. His ass.

"You gonna keep staring or get to it?” Patrick asks, head pillowed by his arms, his tan stark against the white sheets.

“I don’t know, you’re pretty nice to look at,” Jonny says, aiming for casual and probably missing by a mile. He slicks his cock up perfunctorily, avoiding the head. He already knows he’s not going to last long, no need to speed it up any more.

He can hear Patrick’s smile. “Don’t have to woo me when you already have me all undressed and spread out.” He shimmies his hips anyway, arching up just a bit. Just enough. Jonny inhales, sharp.

He adjusts, knees sliding down the bed until he’s braced above Patrick. He gets a hand between them and holds Patrick open, the surreality of it and the obscenity of Patrick’s hole clenching against the air hitting him so that he has to pause, center himself.

“Do it,” Patrick tells him, quiet.

Jonny nudges the head of his cock against his hole. Which, like. He has to fit his cock in there.

He sucks a breath in, gripping his cock in one hand and Patrick’s ass in the other, and starts to press in.

That is, he means to press in. “Wait,” Patrick says.

Jonny doesn’t dare to move. He’s not sure he’s breathing, either.

"Okay,” Patrick says. He sounds…almost afraid. What? “So, obviously there’s some truth to you being crazy good at sex, which actually offends me because you’re supposed to tell me everything, ever—" _What?_ “—but I’m kind of, like. Shit, this is embarrassing, but I’m actually… still. A, um. Virgin.”

“You are?” Jonny breathes.

“I’ll kill you if you mock me for this,” Patrick says, voice muffled by the bedspread. Jonny can see the bright red flush down his neck and around his ears and holy shit, he’s telling the truth.

“Um,” Jonny says.

“It’s not a big deal,” Patrick mumbles defensively. “I’ve just always been fine with only making out and blowjobs and stuff, so. That’s why I asked you if you wanted to hook up." His voice gets smaller. "I know it’s, like, weird, so if you don’t want to anymore, then that’s fine, it doesn’t matter—” He tries to pull up on his elbows, but he’s so wet that all it does make Jonny’s cock, in its exact same position, catch on his rim and almost slip in.

“Fuck,” Jonny bites out, resisting the tug in his gut telling him to just thrust forward and take. He pulls back. “I wouldn’t make fun of you for that. I don’t—the reason I don’t tell you about all the wild sex I’m having is that I’m not having it. I haven’t either."

"You’re fucking me,” Patrick says, looking over his shoulder.

“Not yet,” Jonny says, startling a laugh out Patrick. Except—"Are you sure you want…?“ The thought of hurting Patrick makes him nauseous.

Patrick drops his head back onto his arms. "Yes,” he says. “Yeah, I want to. But maybe just, like… Your dick is fucking big, man, so maybe just the tip, for now? Yeah. Just the tip.”

Jonny can’t believe he’s still alive right now. He doesn’t answer Patrick, afraid of what might come out of his mouth.

He starts to push in, gritting his teeth and keeping his gaze fixed on where his cock is disappearing inside. Jonny is pretty sure he stretched Patrick well, and there’s so much lube it’s running down the backs of Patrick’s legs, but he’s still so, so tight.

When the head finally pops through, Jonny can’t help the long moan that wrenches from his throat.

“Goddamn,” he says. He thinks Patrick might say something in reply, but blood is rushing between his ears, and he can’t tear his attention from where Patrick’s rim is stretched around the head of his cock.

Jonny fucks him, just like that. He keeps a hand wrapped around his cock, fingers of the other curling around Patrick’s hip and holding him up so Jonny can get a good angle. He didn’t think he had this much self control; every shallow push forward feels like it’ll be the last before he comes. But it isn’t. He doesn’t.

He doesn’t, and then Patrick, groaning softly into the sheets and arms flexing with how hard he’s gripping the pillows above his head, says, “You can go deeper,” and Jonny swears under his breath and does.

Jonny goes too deep. He only means to lower his knees to bring them closer together, but he slips, sliding down suddenly until he’s collapsed against Patrick’s back and his cock has fucked all the way in.

“Oh shit, fuck, fuck,” Jonny gasps, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to find the will to not start moving. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn't—”

He braces a hand on the bed, chewing the inside of his cheek and straining to lift off. Fuck.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Patrick says frantically. “Don’t pull out, Jonny, I,” he cuts himself off with a choked groan when Jonny’s hips shift, raising his ass until Jonny’s balls are pressing against the top curve, and he’s so wet and literally virgin tight, and Jonny just—he comes.

He loses himself for a moment, hips grinding in fast and full, panting open-mouthed against Patrick’s ear, his face burrowed into the back of Patrick’s neck. Shit. They didn’t use a condom. He can feel his cock pulse, spilling inside, making Patrick even smoother.

It takes a second for Jonny to catch on, but when he does, he can’t tell whether he’s flushing from the orgasm or from his embarrassment at coming so quick. Another second for him to realize that he hasn’t even gone down, still mostly hard in the hot clutch of heat. Then another to see how Patrick is fucking himself back on it, face buried into the mattress.

“Jesus,“ he says. “Patrick.”

“Not now,” Patrick says, “Busy,” and Jonny laughs.

He feels drained and woozy with how hard he came, but Patrick’s asking something of him. If he didn’t hesitate to say yes when Patrick asked for a fuck, he’s not going to say no to help for an orgasm.

He blinks himself awake and pushes the sudden exhaustion to the back of his mind. Biting his bottom lip hard, he starts to move again, pulling out halfway and shoving his body forward, like an automatic craving. It’s easier to establish a rhythm than he expected; Patrick’s too slippery for Jonny to be able to lift up to the head, so he moves in quick and shallow thrusts, wanting to make it good.

He wills himself not to get hard again. Well, he’s still holding an erection, but he knows if it gets back to full flare where he’s desperate to come, he won’t be able to give it to Patrick the way he deserves. Maybe, if Patrick will let him, he can again, later.

It doesn’t take Patrick long. He’s very vocal, makes it clear for Jonny when he’s chanced into the right spot, swearing and muffling himself in the pillow. He’s been rubbing his cock against the softness of Jonny’s bed, and with a jolt and a squeeze so sound it hurts, he comes under Jonny’s body.

So. That happens.

“Can’t believe I just lost my virginity to _the_ Jonathan Toews,” Patrick rasps, giving Jonny a lopsided grin. Neither of them have gotten off the bed, Patrick resting on his stomach and Jonny on his side. “Olympic gold medalist, Conn Smythe winner, and decent lay.”

Jonny can’t stop staring at Patrick. His hair is mussed up, he’s flushed and sweaty, and he’s the most beautiful human Jonny has ever seen in his life. Jonny just had his dick inside the most beautiful human in the entire world.

“Can’t believe you let me,” Jonny says, scooting closer in. He watches, entranced, as his hand darts out and runs down Patrick’s back, stopping on his ass. He doesn’t even think about, just lets his fingers slip, and then there’s two pressing against the wet rim.

Patrick doesn’t say anything, so Jonny slips them both in. He’s so, so smooth inside; there’s the lube, of course, Jonny used about half a bottle of it, but then, more than that, there’s the thick slide of Jonny’s come. If he was a girl, Jonny could have—he might have—

God, his cock fattens back up so fast he’s shocked he hasn’t gotten whiplash yet.

Patrick glances down. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth, considering, and then he offers, "You can go again.”

“What?” Jonny asks, jaw slack.

Patrick actually points at Jonny’s dick. “Fuck me again.”

Jonny swallows. “Uh. We should—I can—yep.”

Patrick stays on his back this time. He wraps his legs loosely around Jonny’s waist as Jonny sinks back in with a groan. Braces himself over Patrick with his forearms flat on the bed.

Patrick gasps out sharply when Jonny angles his hips and drives in hard. Jonny can’t really feel the full roughness of his prostate, not with his come slicking the way, but he’s pretty sure he hit it.

So he tries to keep his hips at that same tilt. “How is this real,” he says without thinking about it, and Patrick huffs a laugh and leans up and kisses him.

Kissing Patrick is easier like this. Less to think about. Jonny swallows up the sounds he makes, breathes in his own with every rock forward. It feels ridiculously good, like he’s melted down into warmth and the fizz in the base of his spine, lost in it. He can’t get his thoughts around it. All he can do is grit his teeth and try not to come as fast as he did last time, grunting out vague obscenities every time Patrick tenses around him.

“Think I’m gonna come as quick as you did,” Patrick says, dropping his legs and letting his knees fall further apart.

“Oh fuck,“ Jonny says, shocked all over again. He wants him to so badly, and he allows a sliver of space between them so he can trail his hand down and grip the shaking softness of Patrick’s inner thigh. Spread him a little wider so he can get in deeper.

Patrick uses the opening to grab his cock, jacking himself fast, mouth open and eyes hooded. “‘It’s, like. Sensitive. Shit.”

Jonny slows his thrusts. “Want me to stop?”

“No,” he hurries to assure Jonny, head tilting back on the pillow. “No, Jonny, I’m so close.”

“Please,” Jonny says. The motion of his hips is getting sloppier and frenzied. It’s built up this time, not as sudden as before, and the pressure in his gut is getting stronger and hotter with every movement. “I’m—"

He hitches in close one last time, pressing the head on Patrick’s prostate and keeping it there as he mouths at his jaw. With a strangled grunt, Patrick comes between them. His hand goes lax at the same time his hole tightens up, and Jonny just. He’s made Patrick come twice, with his cock in him and little else.

Jonny drops his head and comes too, breathless and heady with Patrick’s arms banded around his back.

Moving feels impossible, but Jonny knows he’s probably too heavy to just lay on Patrick all night, no matter how much he might want to. He’s about ready to pass out as soon as he levers himself off and flops down on the sheets. Patrick looks the same, barely keeping his eyes open as he watches Jonny settles into the pillows.

“Can’t believe I just lost my virginity to _the_ Patrick Kane,” Jonny yawns, cuddling up against Patrick’s side.

“Ditto,” Patrick says, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://manadvantage.tumblr.com)


End file.
